


Fly With Me

by Sulwen



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulwen/pseuds/Sulwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a tweet about a swing at Adam's New Year's party...and therefore this had to be done!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fly With Me

**Author's Note:**

> A picture, for reference purposes: http://img815.imageshack.us/img815/4100/sexswingandstand.jpg

Tommy doesn't notice it until well into the night, the taste of vodka-edged juice evaporating on his lips, last traces of midnight kisses. It's tucked away into a corner, not hidden, but not forcing its presence on the room, there to be noticed if your eyes happened to wander away from the party. There are two girls Tommy doesn't recognize playing with it at the moment, running their hands over sturdy black metal bars, testing the strength of padded leather straps and giggling to each other. Tommy takes another drink and makes his way through the crowd, silently approaching the device. The girls quiet as he nears, and they glance at him and then each other with wicked smiles on their faces. He might not know them, but everyone knows him – and everyone knows he's who the swing is meant for.

The girls and their smiles disappear back into the crowd, and for a moment Tommy is struck by how much has changed in a year, by his complete lack of desire to follow them. Then his attention is back on the swing. It's big and black and absolutely magnetic, and now that he's looking at it he wonders how he could have missed it in the first place. The metal bars are cool to the touch and feel stronger than they look. They form a four-legged frame joined at the top, and suspended in the middle is a somewhat complicated bit of equipment that Tommy has absolutely no idea how to work.

He's still staring at it, one hand gripping the nearest bar and the other holding his drink, when a voice speaks right into his ear, making him jump.

“Do you like it, baby?”

The familiar tone sends tendrils of deep happiness tinged with excitement all through him, and he leans back into Adam, who's big and solid and sturdy against him, not unlike this new toy of his. He turns his head to lay against Adam's chest and looks up to speak softly to him.

“Could be fun...you ever done it before?”

Adam looks down at him, eyes lidded alcohol-heavy. “Never. But I always wanted to try.”

Adam's hands go to Tommy's waist, and he shifts his hips just slightly, fits himself right against Tommy's ass and lets him feel just how interested he really is, and Tommy arches his back on instinct, presses back and bares his neck, knows exactly how Adam likes it, exactly what happens next.

“You boys gonna give us a show? Cause you should really charge admission for that kind of quality!” Sutan's voice trips into Tommy's brain, laughing through the words, and it eases him back to the present. Adam presses into him one last time, just enough to make his breath catch in his throat – because he knows Adam, he does, but that doesn't mean Adam can't still surprise him. The sudden appearance of a sex swing, for example...or the revelation that Adam's exhibitionist streak goes deeper than Tommy had realized.

But then Adam's pulling away, leaving him with a quick kiss on the neck and one whispered promise in his ear.

“Later...”

Tommy spends the rest of the party quiet, distracted, glancing up at the swing every time he gets a chance and wishing he could shove everyone else out the door _right fucking now._

The party begins to wind down not long after, most of the guests drifting out the door, a few heading toward upstairs bedrooms instead. Tommy silently wills them on, watches from his perch on the bar as Adam gives hugs and handshakes and generally plays the good host. He's pleasantly floating, just on the verge of too drunk. He goes to take another drink anyway, and then Adam is right there in front of him, taking the cup out of his hand and finishing it himself, pinning him with an intense look.

“Come play?” he asks, half a smile on his lips, and Tommy licks his lips and nods and stares at Adam with wide eyes, showing him the anticipation that's been building in him all night long. It works, turns Adam's smile into a full-blown grin, and Tommy takes Adam's offered hand and hops down off the bar, lets Adam lead him to the other side of the room, to the swing.

“So, there are a lot of different ways you can do it...” Adam says, looking at the swing and back to Tommy, as if considering.

Tommy shakes his head, feels a blush spreading across his face already. “I wouldn't have any fucking clue where to begin,” he replies, laughing.

Adam shoots him a look that Tommy absolutely loves, that _oh-aren't-I-a-naughty-boy_ look, and says, “I do. I read the instructions.”

Tommy does a double take. “It...it came with _instructions?_ You're shitting me.”

“Well yeah...and I read them _all,”_ Adam says, stretching the last word out into what Tommy thinks is meant to be a seductive drawl.

Instead, it sounds completely ridiculous, and Tommy thinks he might die laughing before they even get a chance to try the thing out. When he finally catches his breath, he says, “Ok, fine, Mr. Expert, hook me up. If you can!”

Adam's eyes narrow playfully, one eyebrow raised, accepting the challenge, and he lunges for Tommy, clothes flying every which way until they're both naked. He's still laughing, and then Adam's laughing back, and getting into the swing is just like that, clumsy and awkward and laughter and kisses when Adam accidentally elbows him in the face.

Finally, he gets situated into what feels like possibly a correct pose, and Adam backs away to inspect his work. Tommy fidgets and shifts his weight, experimenting. There's a strap under his back and another right under his ass, holding him suspended in the air. His feet rest in stirrups, set close enough to his body to force his knees to bend and far enough apart from each other to keep his legs comfortably spread. It's strange, and the straps dig into him, and he feels off-balance, hands flailing in the air, like he might fall out of the thing any second.

Adam's back in an instant, taking his hands and guiding them to the vertical straps above his head, giving him something to hang on to. He's not laughing anymore. Instead his voice is calm, steady, a tone that's a constant presence any time they try something new.

“Relax into it, baby...lie back...it'll hold you, I promise it will. Just breathe out, let your muscles relax, all the tension just fall away. Close your eyes and just rest there a minute. Ok? Do that for me, Tommy?”

Listening to Adam's voice, it's easy to do as he says. Tommy closes his eyes and _rests,_ lets his head fall back, his legs ease open, lets the straps take all his weight, leaving only his hands gripping tight above him, hanging on. It feels surprisingly good, actually...not comfortable, really, not enough to sleep in or anything, but...not bad.

He's drifting on the buzz and the sensation of being suspended in the air and how incredibly exposed he feels, hanging there with his legs spread slutty-wide. Adam's party mix is still blaring over the sound system, and Tommy can feel the vibration of the bass all through him, pounding rhythmically. The air is cool against his heated flesh, all those places that are usually tucked up and hidden away under layers and layers of clothes turned out for the world to see.

There's a low hum of appreciation coming from somewhere over his knees, and he wants to see the look that matches that sound, loves seeing the lust play across Adam's face. He's almost made up his mind to force his head up and his eyes open when the touch comes, one finger running up and down the crack of his ass, a soft, teasing, dry touch that almost tickles. It feels different already, just to be so open, and he shivers a little, imagines he can sense Adam doing the same.

Moments later, the finger is back, wet this time, slick, finding his hole and sliding up into him smooth, deep, easy...almost _too_ easy. At that, Tommy _does_ look up, finds Adam's eyes and starts to ask a question.

“That's...”

Adam cuts him off. “I know, baby, I know, it's more than you like. But I want you wet for this, want you really able to _move_ with me...it'll be good, so good, I promise. Yeah?”

He works his finger in again, angles it just right, and oh _fuck_ he's good at that, finding all the places that make fireworks explode behind Tommy's eyes, get him rock-hard and begging. Tommy's head falls back again on a moan, and Adam chuckles and goes back to the job at hand.

Adam's right – Tommy usually doesn't like too much lube, something that Adam still thinks is weird. He's tried to explain it before, to tell Adam how he likes to really _feel_ him, slow rough drag of friction, hot burn easing more and more as Adam's cock starts leaking, starts letting him ease his own way. Tonight, though, is new, and Tommy's willing to trust Adam's judgment.

And _holy shit,_ he wasn't kidding about wet. He's using the really good lube, the stuff he bought in some hole-in-the-wall little sex shop in Germany, and he's using a _lot_ of it, coating two fingers now and working them in deep. They make an obscene squelching noise each time they thrust in, and Tommy can feel himself opening up around them, the muscles stretching and relaxing. His hips start to rock seemingly on their own, seeking more, and Adam lets him, holds still while he learns the new movement. It's no time at all before he's figured it out – a combination of his hands pulling at the straps above him and his legs folding in creates just the right swing, and suddenly he's riding Adam's fingers, so easy once the rhythm starts going to keep it up, to lay back and fucking _bounce._

Just as the pleasure's threatening to become overwhelming, Adam stops him with a hand on his hip, pulls his fingers away. Tommy's head falls forward onto his chest, his hair flying into his face. He stares at Adam through a haze of blonde, mouth open, breathing hard from the exertion and the electricity spiking through his skin. Adam's staring down at him with that _look,_ that appreciative look that means Tommy's just done something really fucking sexy, and Tommy just wants to push him further, loves it when they're both desperate and aching and racing for the finish line. He rolls his hips one more time and shakes his hair out of his face and speaks on a breathless pleading moan. “Come on, Adam, come _on...”_

Adam pulls his fingers away and coats them with another drizzle of lube before tossing the bottle away. He doesn't take his eyes off Tommy as he strokes himself, and Tommy licks his lips at the sight of all that hard glistening length, anxious, wanting. It's only been since yesterday, but yesterday was also last year, and that's _too fucking long._

“You ready for my cock, baby?” Adam asks, the words rushed, running into each other in their haste. “Gonna move for me like that when I'm fucking you? _Fuck,_ I could come just like this, just _looking_ at you, hanging there wet and open and begging for me...”

Tommy groans and rolls his hips again, spreads his legs as far as they'll go. “Fuck you, I hate you, come the fuck _on,_ give it to me already...”

And Adam does, takes one step forward and lines up and oh _fuck,_ maybe there's something to be said for this massive amounts of lube idea, because he slides in so easy, easy and smooth and fucking balls-deep in one hard thrust. All the air goes out of Tommy in a huff, and he can hear a breathless _oh_ fall from Adam's lips, and he loves this, _loves_ how well they fit together, how this one simple thing can take them both so high, leave them both so satisfied.

Adam looks down, and Tommy looks up, and their eyes catch. Tommy gives a little nod, more than ready, and that's all Adam needs. He takes hold of the same straps Tommy's holding, a few inches above Tommy's hands, and slowly, gently, starts the swing moving. Adam keeps his hips still and lets the swing do the work, lets it pull Tommy back, almost all the way off...and then lets go, lets Tommy ride the gravity down.

“Oh yes,” Adam breathes as he bottoms out again, a choked-off overwhelmed sound that Tommy would totally be echoing if he had any breath to do it with. Adam's eyes blink open hazily, and it takes him a moment to find Tommy's face, to focus. “Yeah?” he asks.

And Tommy swallows and takes a breath and says, “Hell yeah.”

He lets his head fall back again as Adam grins and moves, starts to really get into it, get his hips into the action. And wow, yeah, it really is amazing, so different than any other position he's ever been in, Adam's hands controlling the swing, his hips thrusting to match, as they move apart and together and apart again, and yeah, Tommy could pretty much do this all night, as long as Adam can keep standing.

And then the music clicks over to the next song, some dance track with a heavy bass beat, and Adam's expression turns gleeful and he says, “Oh my god yes, thank you, _perfect,”_ and Tommy's about to ask him what he means by that exactly...when Adam pulls the straps hard, gets him close, thrusts as deep within him as he can get...and starts _dancing._

Tommy's seen Adam's hips in action on stage a thousand times, and yeah, they're pretty fucking skilled in bed, too, but it's _nothing_ like this. Here, suspended like this, he's free to move _with_ Adam instead of against him, and it's a totally new sensation. It's nothing like fucking, nothing like that in and out friction. Instead, Adam uses the straps to keep himself in deep and lets Tommy ride the beats and rolls and swivels of his body as he moves to the music, and Tommy's not much of a dancer, but this is _amazing,_ and fuck yes it feels good, but it's more than that, Adam pulling him right into the song, the two of them moving perfectly in synch together as if they're actually one person. Tommy lets go of any attempt at controlling his body, just lets Adam take him for a ride, loses himself in the music and the movement and the moment.

Adam doesn't quite make it to the end of the song, his hips stuttering, losing the beat, and in half a second he's gone back to the irresistible push and pull of fucking, letting go of the suspension straps and grabbing onto the bars instead, rebracing his feet on the ground and really _going_ for it. They're only touching in one place, and somehow that makes it even more intense, no other sensation to distract him from Adam's cock splitting him wide open. Tommy doesn't realize how hard his hands are gripping the straps, knuckles white, until Adam's voice breaks through the music, a harsh wild whisper.

“Let go...let go, Tommy Joe...I gotcha...let go...”

And Tommy does, slowly relaxes his fingers and lets himself _hang,_ splays his arms out wide, and Adam shifts his weight, frees one hand and gets it on Tommy's cock, bouncing neglected against his stomach. Sensation builds and blends and overwhelms Tommy, Adam stroking him hard and sure, thrusting deep, the straps suspending him digging almost painfully into his flesh, and he can feel the distance, too, the thin air between himself and the floor, and just as everything comes to a head, Adam's voice flowing over him and the music pounding through him and control slipping away as he shoots in wet messy spurts over Adam's hand, he suddenly feels like he's flying.

He's just starting to come down when Adam leans forward, almost losing his balance and catching himself with a tight grip on Tommy's hips as he buries himself one last time, and Tommy feels a blissful grin spread across his face as Adam empties himself deep inside him, glad he's regained his senses enough to really pay attention to it, because oh god he _loves_ that feeling, hot and wet and pulsing and so, so intimate.

Adam lets himself rest only a moment before pulling out, stepping back. He breathes hard through open lips, trying to regain his breath, and Tommy watches as Adam's eyes go wide, staring at him, eyes locked between his legs. He blushes under Adam's gaze, feeling fucked open and wet and dripping, a hot sticky mess of come and lube and sweat...but he doesn't try to close his legs, because if Adam wants to look, Tommy's gonna let him see.

It's not long, though, before a deep ache starts to settle into his hips and knees and shoulders, and he can feel his back burning where the straps have rubbed his skin nearly raw. His face crumples a little with the pain, and in the next moment Adam is right there, wrapping strong arms around him and lifting him out of the swing. Adam sets him on his feet, but he doesn't let go, pulls Tommy to lean against his body and keeps his arms wrapped tight around him, holding him up.

They stand for a long time, and slowly Tommy's breathing calms and his heartbeat slows and he looks up at Adam with reverence in his eyes. Adam's staring back down at him and smiling, and Tommy smiles back.

“Happy New Year, baby,” Adam murmurs, and swallows Tommy's reply in an achingly sweet kiss. And he's right, Tommy thinks sleepily. It is.


End file.
